Immortals
by Aku Blossom
Summary: Super Zeroes AU. The City of Townsville is in dire need of saving. As crime rates rise and the city's underbelly grows fat with power, three teenage girls, still new to their powers, will step forward to oppose the hate, suffering, and anarchy that plagues their beloved city.
1. Introduction: L

A Bright and Shining Star

The quiet streets of Townsville suddenly erupted into cacophony when the window of the Townsville Jeweler exploded into the streets. A pair of dark figures leaped through the gaping hole, hurrying into the street. Their getaway car was parked just around the corner. Rounding the corner, the taller of the two pointed toward it, a grin spread across his face. Panting, clutching their prizes close to their chests, the pair dove into the backseat of the car.

"We're back, go, go, go!" The second thief called, slapping the driver's seat. He coughed, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth, pulling open his satchel to get a good look at the cache of earrings, necklaces, watches and other shiny baubles he'd managed to snatch up. With a grunt, he kicked the seat without looking up. "Go, Mac! The cops'll be here any second!"

There was no response. The taller of the two thieves, who had been looking out the back window, turned, finally, and tried to get a good look at the driver. He was slumped over, head resting on the steering wheel. Had he fallen asleep waiting for them?

"Don't worry, he says. I'm real pro, he says. Jesus, c'mon wake up-" The thief started to lean forward, freezing when he saw the bruise on the side of Mac's face. He swallowed nervously, noticing the thin stream of blood leaking down the steering wheel. "M-Mac, are you?"

The two screamed when another voice spoke up from the passenger seat.

"He's not dead, just unconscious. You two took quite a while to get back here. I figured I'd let him rest," The cocky voice called back. The two hurried out of the car, backing away from it as fast as they could stumble. The taller thief pulled out a handgun, aiming it toward the passenger side door. The door popped open and the mysterious figure stepped out, the streetlights gleaming against the golden eagle bow she wore on her head. She shut the door and sauntered toward them, tightening the blue gloves on her hands. Behind her mask, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes narrowed.

"C'mon, boys. Put the toys away, let's put the goods back, and we'll call it a night," she scolded, still marching toward them with the same cocky swagger.

The tall thief narrowed his eyes, his lips pulling back in a growl. This kid had to be the one the others had been talking about. The newbie in Townsville.

"Smug little shit...don't know what you're getting yourself into," he muttered, firing at her. To their surprise, her head jerked to the side, avoiding the bullet entirely. She sighed resting her hands on her hips.

"I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. I'm here to clean up the city's mess." He fired again and, just like before, she quickly jerked to the side, avoiding the bullet from an even closer range this time. The girl, the heroine, narrowed her eyes, "You're the ignorant ones. You don't know who I am,"

"I heard about you," the second thief muttered, dropping his satchel of jewelry and flicking open a switchblade. "Flag Girl or some shit. You got guts, kid. Keep messin with the adults and you're gonna lose them."

The girl smirked, replying with a 'Bring-it-On' gesture. The thief roared, lunging at her. By the time he swung his blade, she'd already moved to the side. She caught his wrist and slammed her fist against his side. His grip wavered. She slammed her knee into his chest, then brought a powerful hook down on his face, sending him smashing into the ground, his switchblade tumbling uselessly away from him.

"Freaking Meta-human!" The first thief screamed, emptying the rest of his clip on her. The heroine rushed at him, ducking and dipping away from each shot just moments before they left the barrel of the gun. His gun clicked, just as her fist met his stomach with enough force to knock him off his feet. The thief collapsed on the ground, reaching for another clip of ammo. Just as he found it, a glimmering golden rope fell over him.

"What the fu-" He grunted when the rope tightened around him. Try as he might, he couldn't break free. The heroine shoved her foot against his chest, laying him out flat on the ground. That's when it began to sink in. His eyes widened and filled with tears. His pulse quickened and his heart raced. He remembered his father's disappointment when he lost his first baseball game. He remembered being dumped the night before prom. He remembered hitting his girlfriend before heading out for the night's heist. Every unpleasant thought, every bad memory came flooding back.

In seconds, he found himself sobbing in remorse for every bad decision he'd ever made.

"You understand what you're doing is wrong, don't you?" she asked. He whimpered and nodded, "Put the gun down." Without hesitation, the gun fell from his hands. The heroine nodded, giving him one last squeeze, "Do you surrender?"

"Y-Yes, I'm so sorry!" he sobbed. Smiling slightly, the heroine untied him, leaving him where he lay while she returned to check on his partner. Her eyes widened and the muscles in her leg stiffened. The second thief came up at her, swinging his blade with all his strength. If she hadn't stopped at that moment, it would have gone straight for her throat. Instead, it passed helplessly through the air.

With a sigh, she grabbed his wrist, squeezing until he dropped the knife. Unceremoniously, she draped her lasso around him and threw him back against the car.

"Who the fuck are you? What are...what a…" the man's questions trailed off, replaced by the look of regret and sorrow his partner had worn before. Quicker than his partner, he was sobbing and begging for forgiveness as intense remorse flooded his thoughts. The heroine knelt down in front of him, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm The Amazing Liberty Belle, and I'm here to clean up the streets of Townsville,"


	2. Introduction: H

**A Rainbow Full of Sunshine**

The little boy shuddered, pulling back his shirt to get a better look at the bruise growing on his shoulder. It was yellow, disgusting to look at. He'd have to keep wearing sweaters, even if the weather was getting warmer. He pressed a wet rag against it, whimpering and biting his lip to keep from crying out. Mama was drinking again; Mama hated it when he cried when she was drinking. He should have known better than to ask about dinner, but he hadn't had anything to eat since school, and they hadn't been shopping.

It was just a question, not a demand, like she'd told him before she hit him. He rung out the rag and left it on the bathroom counter, rubbing his grumbling belly. With a weak little sigh, he slid out of his bedroom as quietly as he could and made his way toward the kitchen. He was careful to tiptoe by the living room. Finally, he made it to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully pulled the refrigerator open and peered inside. A jar of mayonnaise that had gone bad weeks ago, a stick of butter, and an empty orange juice carton. The little boy groaned, quickly clamping his mouth shut when he heard a grunt from the living room.

"Isaac? Isaac, is that you? What are you into now? I told you, stay out of that kitchen!" Heavy footsteps were coming his way. The little boy, Isaac, breathed heavily, looking around for a way out of the kitchen. If she caught him, Lord knew she'd do more than just hit him this time. He tried to make his way to the hallway, but ran face first into his mother. Her face was red, a half-empty bottle dangling from her hand.

Her eyes were vacant as she glared at him, slowly backing him up into the kitchen.

"I told you to stay in your room. But, here you are. Why are you such a naughty boy? Why don't you ever do what your mother tells you?" she rambled, wiping her mouth and setting her bottle down on the counter. It tumbled over and fell to the floor, shattering. She paused, staring at it. "Isaac...look what you've done...what you've done to me, to my floor!" she mumbled, her voice getting higher with each word.

"Rotten, no-good, miserable little boy," she hissed, digging around the kitchen drawer. Isaac shuddered and slipped around her, grimacing when he stepped on a piece of glass. His mother looked up, rolling pin in hand. "Isaac? Isaac! Get back here! Don't you dare run from me!" she hollered, hurrying after him.

Isaac screamed, stumbling as quickly as he could back to his room. He threw the door shut and pushed the little lock button. He knew it would be a mistake. She could open it so easily, and she was only going to be even angrier that he locked the door. A heavy hand slammed against the door as she tried the knob. It jiggled uselessly and Isaac swore he could hear his mother growling.

"You locked your door? Isaac, I told you I don't appreciate that! I told you never to lock this door! Open the God-damned door!" She roared, slammed her fist against it again. Isaac looked around for somewhere to go, anywhere to hide.

His eyes fell on the window. They were three floors up. Isaac ran to his window, fighting with the lock. His mother was grumbling as she stomped away to grab the metal wire she used to unlock his door. He turned, peering out the window as he pushed it open. It was so far down but, maybe he could let himself down slowly?

"Isaac...this is not funny. You rotten little brat, I swear I am going to-" Isaac didn't wait to hear anything more. He slipped out the window, nearly tumbling to the street below. He screamed, grabbing the window sill with all his strength. His little fingers couldn't hold on forever, though. As the door opened, he heard a deafening "ISAAC!" and his grip faltered.

The little boy screamed, tumbling through the air. Even over his screams, he heard a loud smash and suddenly felt something warm and fuzzy pressed against him. His fall slowed, until it felt like he was hanging in the air. He cracked his eyes open, looking up at a pair of big, blue eyes. His savior grinned cheerfully, hidden behind a white hood with big, floppy bunny ears.

"Hi!" She chirped. Isaac screamed when the two began to fall again. The slammed into the ground and bounced slightly, then once more before coming to a halt. The bunny girl shushed him, smoothing his hair and rubbing his back.

"It's okay...Isaac, was it?" He nodded and she smiled, "You're okay now. You need to be careful! It's dangerous to climb out your window!" She giggled, though it faded when she saw how he winced when she touched his shoulder. "Oh, are you hurt? Oh my gosh!" she squealed, spotting the bruise. "What happened?"

"ISAAC!" The two looked up, hearing a voice nearby. The little boy cried out, burying himself in the strange bunny girl's arms.

The girl looked down at him, then up at his approaching mother, realization in her eyes. She whispered for Isaac to stay put and set him down, approaching his mother.

"Get away from him, you fat little freak," his mother slurred, taking a swing at her with her rolling pin. The girl avoided the sloppy swing and reached into the little purse she was carrying. With a "Boop!" she pressed a smiley face sticker onto his mom's forehead. In an instant, she tumbled over, thankfully caught by the strange girl. She laid his mother down, where she was staring blankly up at the sky mumbling and smiling to herself.

Isaac started to get up, but the bunny girl shushed him again and hurried over to him, taking another sticker from her purse. She softly pressed it against his shoulder and, to his surprise the pain left! In fact, he couldn't help smiling until he began to laugh.

"Who are you?" he asked between giggles. The girl grinned, bopping him lightly on the nose.

"I'm the Daring Harmony Bunny! Don't worry, Isaac, I won't let you be sad anymore,"


	3. Introduction: M

**A Dark and Violent Shadow**

The Undercity, the unofficial name for the darker side of Townsville. Nestled away in the deeper parts of Townsville's old industrial district, it had become a breeding ground for crime and corruption. For too long, it had become a place where common crooks and devious mobster gathered to plot and scheme, to secretly rule over Townsville away from the prying light of the sun. Murders had become commonplace as petty robberies, to the point that even the cops refused to patrol the Undercity without SWAT reinforcements. And, as of recent years, those reinforcements themselves had fallen in with a bad crowd. The crowd that ran the Undercity.

A pair of burning eyes narrowed. The figure pulled their cape tighter around them, watching with menacing intent as a group of shady individuals walked by, escorted by four police officers in full SWAT gear. The figure ducked deeper into the shadows when one of the officers turned to look her way. She grit her teeth, quickly vanishing and hurrying after them.

The stocky man at the head of the group lit a cigarette and nodded toward a run down hotel. Taking a moment to glance back, he gestured for two of the officers to watch the door, and led the group inside. One, two, three, four flights of stairs up, the group paused by an abandoned room.

"Wait here," the man ordered, slipping a wad of bills to one of the officer. He nodded and the two took up their place outside the room. Finally free of their escorts, the group relaxed, shedding their coats and taking up spots around the room. One of them strolled to the refrigerator with a swagger in his step, cracking open a beer. He gagged at the first sip, but shrugged and kept drinking.

"You guys want one?" he asked. None of the others spoke up, so he just shrugged and took another for himself, sitting at the dining room table. He downed the rest of his beer and leaned back, kicking his feet up on the table. One of his companions glared, but no one said a word as he dug into his next can.

"So," The stocky man from before began, crushing his cigarette and lighting another one, "We got the last package, but the boss is getting antsy." He pursed his lips, shaking his head, "Not antsy, frustrated. We got the package, but we had another crew taken out by that flag bitch."

The lanky man at the table snorted, "Flag Girl, tell you what, gimme five minutes with that bimbo, I'll show teach her the fifty states, if you know what I mean!" He laughed and threw his can down, sighing when no one else laughed.

A man leaning by the door cleared his throat, "Another meta spotted, something about a rabbit or something? Not sure, but I know Terracotta's got his boys on a tighter leash now. Townsville's gettin' weird, man," he muttered.

The group paused, hearing some commotion outside. There was shouting, followed by gunfire. There was a scream and then everything went silent.

"Stupid thugs, think they can muscle in on our business," the stocky man muttered. Not for the first time, he was glad they hired the escort. Even in the Undercity, there were goons who didn't want to respect the rules of the hierarchy. Idiots who didn't know better about messing with the boss's crew.

"So-" Before the conversation could continue, they heard a shout outside the door. The man leaning against the door backed away, reaching for the gun on his hip. This time, they could clearly hear the officers screaming, and the sickening sound of bones cracking. Then, a loud thump came flying at the door, causing it to shake in its hinges.

"The fuck is that…" One of the men muttered. The lanky man at the table looked down, watching as thick, black shadows slipped under the door. He swallowed nervously, climbing to his feet and finding his own gun. The four mobsters backed away as the shadows grew darker still. A figure rose up from the darkness, searing green eyes burning like angry suns.

"A fuckin meta-human, dammit. Let the bo-" The stocky man trailed off, his mouth dropping open. He coughed, blood streaming down his lips, and looked down. The shadow was in front of him now, her arm embedded in his chest. She pulled her other hand back and slowly reached for his face. Her claws dug into his skin and then bright green flames erupted from her palm. His pained screams were muffled by her own hand. With a small grunt, she let him fall to the ground, his face charred black.

"What the hell…" The next nearest mobster opened fire, but, even as the shots landed they did little to slow her down as she advanced on him. Green fire erupted from her hand, creating a crooked, angry blade. With a swipe of her arm, faster than he could see, she cleaved his hand from his body. As he started to scream, she lunged forward and jammed the blade into his face, ramming him against the ground over and over again.

The man who had been leaning on the door turned to run. The figure just lifted her hand and muttered under her breath, unleashing a screaming skull, cloaked in green flames, from her hand. The moment it collided with him, it chewed into his back, knocking him to the ground. The figure narrowed her eyes and clenched her fist. The flaming skull screamed and buried itself in him, exploding and tearing him apart.

The drunk man could barely hold onto his gun from his trembling. He fired several shots at her, but the dark figure advanced unharmed. She narrowed her eyes.

"What the fuck are you? What do you want? Money? I g-got money!" he pleaded, dropping his gun and stumbling back. Too soon, he realized he was backed against the wall.

The figure grabbed his throat and leaned closer. He could smell sulfur on her breath.

"I want your boss's head," she hissed, in a raspy voice like death itself.

"What are you?" He whispered. His voice cracked and blood began to seep from his throat, where she tightened her grip. She brought her hand up and clenched her fingers. Green fire flowed from within her and engulfed her fist. She pulled it back and looked him dead in the eye. Her fangs gleamed in her own wicked fire.

"I am the curse you scum brought on this city. The scourge of evil. The Mighty Mange,"


	4. Blossom Bellum

**Volume 4 - Blossom Bellum**

"In conclusion, that's why I feel that, rather than simply standing by and waiting four years for the presidential election, young people should instead take an interest in what is happening in their state and local governments. These are issues that have a more direct impact on each and every one of us. Remember, real change starts at home, and it's our responsibility, and duty, as citizens to do our part to make that change a reality. Thank you!" The young lady, a sixteen year old with long auburn hair, smiled and nodded to her classmates. Most of the class seemed horrifically bored by her speech, though the perky, chubby, blonde girl in the back was clapping enthusiastically, grinning cheerfully. The young lady sighed and turned to her teacher.

"Fantastic work, Blossom. You finished at exactly three minutes, and I know I personally will be sure to show up to the next city council meeting!" She chuckled and motioned for the young lady, Blossom, to sit down.

Blossom smiled and nodded, collecting her notecards and returning to her seat. While the teacher called on the next presentation, one of her classmate's a brunette with dark eyes, leaned closer to her.

"So, did your mom write that so we'll vote for her next election?" she teased.

Blossom shuffled her cue cards and pursed her lips. Clearing her throat, she replied in a hushed tone, "My mom isn't the mayor, Jen."

Another classmate giggled and rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah, like that silly old man is the one running the show."

"The mayor is...a bit old, but he's a good person," Blossom tried to explain, though her words fell on deaf ears as the conversation drifted to mocking the next student speaking. Blossom brushed her hair away from her face and glanced over her shoulder. The perky girl noticed her look and grinned, waving. Blossom returned the smile, quickly turning away with a little sigh. She shuffled her papers and tapped her fingers on her desk.

She really wanted to dig her book out, but managed to resist the temptation. It would have been rude, and it would have set a bad example. Blossom sat up straight, squaring her shoulders and pursed her lips. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. Not that anyone would have noticed.

That was one of the reasons she loved giving speeches and presentations so much. At least, when she was up at the front of the room, her classmates had to pretend to pay attention to her. They had to at least act like their noticed her. Blossom glanced up at the clock.

Billy droned on, somehow talking too fast to understand and too slow to get it over with. How someone could take a subject as interesting as the impact of literacy tests and identification requirements on the democratic process and make it so dull was beyond her. Thankfully, the bell saved her from another second listening to his bored, monotonous rambling.

"Alright, alright, we'll pick up with the rest of the class tomorrow. No homework tonight, but make sure you take a look at chapter twenty-seven, we'll be moving on to that section next," the teacher explained as everyone began to hurry out of the room. Blossom made sure to make a note to re-read chapter twenty-seven in her day planned and carefully gathered her belongings. It was a long day, but school was finally out.

A quick stop off at her locker, carefully adjusting her already full backpack to accommodate yet another textbook, and Blossom hurried out the door and began making her way toward the town hall. It was a quick walk, and she was excited to tell her mom about her day. She sighed, something she realized she did way too often, and smiled, looking up at the big white building. With a little grin, she hurried up the steps.

"Thank you, Norman!" she chirped when the doorman quickly held the door open for her.

Norman chuckled, "Anytime, Blossom. Have a good day?"

Blossom turned and grinned, shuffling backward, and replied, "The best!"

The doorman just nodded and winked, "That's our girl, tell your mama I said hey."

Blossom nodded, checking in at the front desk and hurrying upstairs to her mother's office. She paused in front of the door, perking her ears up. Other than the clacking of keys and the occasional phone call, things seemed to be normal. With a smile, she slid the door open and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her. Her mom was in the middle of a call, but she beamed when she caught sight of Blossom and motioned for her to take a seat.

Blossom's mom, Sara Bellum, was the Mayor of Townsville's personal assistant. Given the mayor's old age and his...eccentricities, she went well above and beyond her job description. Writing his speeches, handling his appointments, meeting with important local figures in his place, there was little her mom hadn't done at this point to help keep Townsville running smoothly. And, despite her busy workload, she still managed to be an amazing mother!

The sixteen year old slid down onto the loveseat normally saved for visitors meeting with the mayor and dug into her backpack. She pulled out her math textbook, and her English workbook and pursed her lips. She had plenty of work to do in both classes...but which one to do first?

"Finally...I swear," Ms. Bellum spoke up, finally, "Some of our citizens just do not understand that the mayor isn't responsible for their computer getting viruses," she smiled when Blossom laughed and returned to typing at her computer, "So tell me, how was school, today?"

"It went well. Really well, actually. I'm pretty sure I got a perfect score on my science test. And we're starting a pretty interesting section in chemistry. I think we have a lab next week," Blossom explained, scribbling away in her English workbook. She paused, tapping her lips with her pencil, then quickly changed one of her answers. She looked up when her mom continued typing in silence.

"That's great, Honey! Sorry, let me just finish this real quick, then you can tell me the rest," she suddenly responded, the fatigue clear in her voice.

"It's okay, Mom," Blossom replied with a knowing smile. Her mom was a tenacious woman, but the job could be draining. Blossom could relate in more ways than one.

The door flew open and a little old man shuffled out, rambling the moment he stepped into the room, "Ms. Bellum! I'm heading out for my 5:15 appointment with...why, hello there, Blossom! What brings you here today?" The mayor exclaimed, hurrying over to her. Blossom grinned and brushed her hair behind her ear.

"Just visiting, Mr. Mayor. And, um, sir? It's only 3:20," she pointed out.

The mayor blinked, then turned to Ms. Bellum for clarification.

"She's right, sir. Your appointment isn't for another two hours, I'll be sure to get you when it's time for us to head out," she assured him, eyes glued to the document she was still working on. Most likely one of the mayor's many, many speeches. For an old man who could just barely read, and seldom knew where he was, he loved talking to the city.

"Oh! Well, wonderful news! I'll return to the, eh...the um...Ms. Bellum, what was I working on?" he asked sheepishly.

"You were signing those very important documents I left with you this morning, and looking over the notes for your meeting today, Mr. Mayor."

"Ah, that's right! Blossom! It's good to see you! How was school today?" the mayor asked, suddenly noticing Blossom again.

The teen grinned, "It went very well, thank you, sir!"

Her mom spoke up, the exasperated look on her face becoming a sly smile, "Blossom gave a speech about the importance of youth participation in local government today," she piped up.

Blossom sighed and felt her cheeks heating up when the mayor jumped with excitement.

"Is that so! Do tell, young lady! Oh, you know I love a good speech!" he exclaimed, plopping down on the couch beside her.

"It...went really well, I think. My teacher was impressed, but...I'm pretty sure most of my classmates weren't listening," she admitted.

The mayor just scoffed, patting her on the shoulder, "Oh, don't let it get you down, Blossom! The important thing is that you were speaking! And if you speak often enough, and loud enough, eventually someone will listen!"

Blossom chuckled, "Thank you, sir. That's very inspiring," The mayor beamed and hopped up, shuffling toward his office again. Before he could shut the door, a phone began to ring in his office. The mayor glanced back at Blossom.

The smile was gone and the blush had faded from her cheeks. Her rosy-pink eyes narrowed in determination as she rose to her feet.

The mayor cleared his throat and excused himself. The ringing stopped and the mother and daughter waited, listening to his babbling in the other room. There was a click.

"Mr. Mayor, is there a problem?" Ms. Bellum called.

"Oh, yes! Ms. Bellum, ahem...it would appear the police are having um...some difficulty pursuing a, um...threat! Yes, there's a high speed chase going through Townsville!" he exclaimed, scurrying back into the room.

"Where is the chase?" Blossom asked abruptly, cutting off the mayor's rambling.

"Oh! Right! Of course, now what did he say...6th and 3rd?" The mayor yelped when Blossom swept by him and out of the building. At her computer, Ms. Bellum smirked, and opened a new window on her monitor. A live-feed of a local news chopper following the chase.

"Get him, Honey," she quietly cheered.

XxXxX

The city of Townsville was in a panic. A sleek red car took a sharp turn, diving through two lanes of traffic, just barely getting control before shooting down the street at full speed. Weaving in and out of the cars, the driver glanced in his rearview mirror. He growled and shifted into a higher gear, slamming the accelerator to the floor. The cars behind him were quickly pulling over, letting the cops keep up pursuit.

He'd been in enough car chases to know he was running out of time. Eventually they'd have the roadblocks set, then the tire shreds would come out. He groaned, adjusting his mirror to look up at the sky. Even now, he had a news helicopter still hot on his trail. Shaking his head, the man narrowed his eyes and took another sharp turn, down an alleyway.

The road opened up in front of him, spilling him into a fresh street. Cars swerved to avoid him, but with a few quick turns of his wheel and a jerk of his handbrake, he was gunning down the street leaving several accidents in his wake. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glanced at his prize. The boss wanted the package delivered as soon as possible. With the flag bitch and the freak that had been killing their boys breathing down their necks, now more than ever they needed a new shipment.

The man swallowed and nodded. He had to get this delivered in time.

They couldn't afford any more second chances.

"Wait, what?" The man adjusted his rear view mirror and his eyes widened. Some crazy sonuvabitch was catching on him. His grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. It was her. The blue leotard, with a big white star on the chest, the white leggings, blue boots and gloves. That stupid golden eagle hairbow and that showy red cape, like fire trailing behind her. And that mask. A red mask with white covering what were surely a dangerous pair of eyes.

The flag bitch was on his tail.

XxXxX

Liberty Belle narrowed her eyes and leaned to and fro as she ducked and dove in and out of traffic. She'd have to thank the officer who loaned her his patrol cycle later, but for now, she had a job to do. She glanced down at her speedometer and muttered, "Drat!" They were nearing a hundred miles an hour, and the jerk was still trying to lose her by ducking through crowded intersections.

The car flew through the air, crashing down and skidding before recovering and ducking onto the highway. Liberty Belle cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out.

Her pulse quickened, her heart began to race, and her eyes...her eyes saw everything. Quickly shifting her weight, she avoided a car that was pulling onto the street from around the corner. Pushing the bike harder than she was sure it had ever been pushed, she ducked to avoid a tire flying from a wreck as a car, trying to avoid a jaywalker, tumbled over. Liberty grit her teeth and ducked down, zipping in and out of frightening motorists and launching onto the highway. The bike nearly toppled, from the force of her turn, but she managed to keep it up and shot off after her prey.

He was heading for the old industrial region. Aside from the docks, most of those buildings were rundown and condemned. Her nose scrunched and she growled; it was the perfect place for a criminal to hide. If she couldn't catch up, she'd find herself in his territory. Then she'd have his friends to deal with, and no help of backup.

"Alright, you wanna race? Let's race, Scumbag," she muttered, her pulse quickening again, her heart racing and her eyes narrowing. He was fast, but he couldn't move like she could. He couldn't see like she could.

XxXxX

The driver's fingers were starting to ache, his forearms were beginning to cramp. He had to make it to the drop off point, his own life be damned! But, that girl, that stupid flag girl! He glanced in the mirror and shuddered. She was closing in on him. He glanced up, spotting the nearest exit. He shook his head, trembling. That would only dump him back into the city, keeping him away from the boss's turf.

He screamed when he heard banging on his window. Turning, he went pale. She was riding along beside him, glaring daggers at him. With a shout, he swung his car at her, slamming into the bike. He laughed, a panicked sound, and looked down at his package. That was that, wasn't it? No way a little girl could...his eyes went wide again, hearing a thud on the roof of his car. With another scream, he reached for the handgun he'd hidden in the glove box and took several shots at the roof. He blinked and looked back at the road.

She was on the hood of his car, glaring at him. He growled and took a shot at her. Somehow, he missed. He took another shot. He fired until his clip was empty, littering his windshield with bullet holes. Not a single shot landed. He dropped his gun.

"No, I have to...I!" Her fist came flying at the damaged windshield, shattering it. Before he could react to the shards of glass spraying in his face, he felt her boot against his face. Liberty Belle gave him another swift kick and dropped onto his lap, taking the wheel from him.

"This is reckless and stupid! I hope you understand how stupid this is! How many people were hurt, and how many more you could have hurt!" She hissed, swinging the car around, toward the nearest exit. The driver roared and grabbed her, wrapping his arm around her throat, and taking a shot at her face.

Liberty Belle's eyes narrowed and she took a long, deep breath, letting it out. She spun the wheel, slamming her head back against his nose and avoiding his punch. As the car began to topple, she reached for his seatbelt. Realizing he wasn't wearing it, she inwardly groaned and turned, kicking out the driver's side door. She quickly wrapped her arm around his neck and threw them both into the street, just as the car began to tumble.

The car flipped and flew through the air, torn apart as soon as it crashed full speed into a street lamp. Liberty Belle rolled in the air, taking the brunt of the hit as the two collided with the pavement. With a grunt, she threw the driver as far from the street as she could manage and charged after him. She threw a devastating hook at his cheek and then another, dropping him to the ground.

Groaning, she stood up straight, and adjusted her bow. He tried to crawl away, but was quickly caught in her golden lasso. He tumbled face-first into the pavement and began to sob.

Liberty Belle coughed, stumbling toward him. With a grunt, she rolled him over and pressed her knee against his chest. Her breathing was ragged, but, behind her mask, her eyes were fierce.

"Why would you do this?"

"I had to get the package! You don't get it! I'm...I'm so sorry!" he cried, flooded with regret thanks to her lasso. Liberty Belle shook her head, grabbing his collar and lifting him up.

"What were you delivering?" she breathed, too exhausted for games.

"I can't! I can't! I can't!" the man struggled away from her and tried to crawl away. Liberty Belle stopped him with a swift kick to the side and grimaced, clutching her arm. With a groan, she pulled her hand away and stared at the blood coating it. Shaking her head, The heroine snatched the end of her lasso and secured it to a nearby traffic light. Stopping to clutch her arm again, she hurried to the crash she'd caused to make sure no one was hurt.

XxXxX

The patio door slid open and a very, very tired Liberty Belle stumbled in, clutching her arm. Her cape was torn, wrapped around her sleeve, which was now dripping red. With a hiss, she slid the patio door shut and tried to lift her leg to get her boots off. With a whimper, she tore her mask off and threw it on the ground, then promptly fell back on her bed. After a moment of fighting with her bow, she threw it down on the floor and began to fight with her hair tie.

She gave up the fight and sprawled out on her bed. A knock came to the door and Blossom weakly called out, "Mom? Come in."

Ms Bellum stepped into the room, setting a mug of hot tea down on her daughter's desk. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked down at her super heroine with a little smile.

"I take it work was rough?" she teased, joining her on the bed and helping her sit up. Blossom hissed, sighing with relief as her mom pulled her long hair free and let it fall around her.

"I jumped out of a car going around ninety…" Blossom muttered. Slowly a smile found its way to her lips, and a hopeful look flitted across her eyes, "Did you see me?"

Ms Bellum chuckled and gave her a tiny hug. She glanced down at Blossom's arm when she hissed and shook her head.

"Of course I did, I never miss one of your performances. Come on, Super Girl, let's get that arm looked at. Up, up!" Helping her to her feet, the two shuffled out the door. Ms. Bellum looked down at her daughter. Even now, after all the training, the planning, the paperwork, it was still amazing to think that her daughter was really a super heroine. Smiling, she gave her another hug before flipping off the light and shutting the door behind them.


	5. Bubbles Utonium

**Volume 5 - Bubbles Utonium**

"What a day!" A young blonde girl exclaimed as she hopped off the bus, pausing and holding her hand out to the little boy trailing after her. He quickly slipped his little hand into hers, swinging it to and fro as the pair walked toward their house. She paused to push her thick-rimmed glasses back up, the afternoon sun glinting off the frames to make her baby blue eyes sparkle even more than normal, "How was school, Sammy?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

The little boy shrugged, giggling when she ruffled his messy dark hair, "It was okay, we played tag today and I was it most of the time," he sighed, "Everyone's just so fast! I wanna be fast too! Fast like you, Bubbles!" he exclaimed.

His sister, Bubbles, just giggled, gently reminding him to take his shoes off before he went charging toward the living room. "Just keep running and you'll be super fast someday! Even faster than me!" she proclaimed, flexing her arms and grinning. Sammy just rolled his eyes, plopping down on the sofa and turning on the television.

"Yeah, right!" he shot back, his despair giving way to joy as the theme song to his favorite show began to blare across the room. Bubbles just rolled her eyes, strolling to the door across from the living room. She gave it a few gentle raps, then cleared her throat.

"Daddy? You still down there?" She called. There was a rumble, and then the whole house shook. Bubbles giggled, ignoring her father's extremely G-rated cursing echoing alongside the footsteps heading for the door. It popped open, revealing her father, the famed Professor Utonium, covered in soot, with a strange purple liquid leaking down his face.

He gave her a wry grin, placing his hands on his hips. Bubbles just grinned in return.

"Oops, my bad?" she teased. He just chuckled.

"No, no, it was my 'bad'. I should have known the salicylic acid wouldn't accept the hydroxyl ions…" he muttered, stroking his chin and sighing. "Oh well, back to the drawing board,"

"Hi Dad!"

"Hey there, Sammy! Good day at school?"

"Yeah I guess so,"

The Professor turned to his oldest child, raising his eyebrow. Bubbles just shrugged and smiled.

"He had a rough game of tag, it was serious business," she explained. The Professor nodded, mouthing an "ah" before turning to head back into his lab.

"Well, you two stay out of trouble. Mom has a meeting after class, so she won't be home until later. I'll start dinner in about an hour," he called back.

"Oh, wait! Daddy, did you get that thing fixed for me? You know...the thing? The special thing you were fixing for me? The thing I need to do that other thing you don't really want me to do, but I really, really like doing so you and Mommy said I could keep doing it as long as you fixed that thing?" Bubbles rambled, still talking even when her father chuckled.

"Your shoes are in your closet. I got the soles fixed, try to remember what we discussed. No sudden stops, use little bounces to reduce your momentum," he replied. Bubbles cheered and pumped her fists.

"Thanks, Daddy!" she cried. The Professor just smiled and shut the door to his lab, returning to his latest experiment. Bubbles hummed to herself, practically skipping to the living room and plopping down next to her brother. No sooner had she sat down, she hopped back up and made her way to the kitchen.

"Sam, you wanna cookie?" she called, rifling through the pantry. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in annoyance, spotting the pack of her favorite sweets stashed on the top shelf. She bent her legs slightly and hopped up, her head nearly touching the ceiling as she snatched her prize. With a victorious little smirk, she landed on one foot, hopped a little lower, and then the other, with a final little bounce.

"See? Little bounces. I have this totally under control," she whispered to herself with a delighted nod. Licking her lips, she took a gleeful bite out of the first cookie and returned to the living room, plopping down next to her brother again.

Sammy accepted the cookie in silence, completely enthralled by his show. Before too long, Bubbles herself had become entranced. Part of her wanted to be embarrassed that she shared her brother's obsession for what was definitely a show marketed at children his age. The other part of her, the smart part, told that part to shush and mind its own business, thank you very much!

As the hero finally overcame the villain's plot for the week, the two broke out of their trances in unison, both cheering as the credits rolled. Sammy turned to Bubbles with a giant grin plastered on his face.

"That was the best one yet! Did you see the way he-"

Bubbles nodded, "I know, right? And how about when he-"

"Yeah! Yeah! Oh man, and that thing? The one with the...yeah!" The both sighed, falling back on the couch and bursting into laughter. Bubbles took that time to glance at the clock by the television. Their mom wouldn't be home for a while still. The responsible thing to do would be to get their homework over with.

Mommy was a teacher, after all.

"Oh! That's right!" Sammy exclaimed, interrupting Bubbles' train of thought, "You said you'd fix my car! C'mon, c'mon!" He grabbed her wrist and tugged with all his might. Unfortunately, his little second grade arms were powerless against his much stronger sibling.

"Did I? Oh yeah…" Bubbles teased, slipping to her feet. She started to head for the stairs, but Sammy stopped her, shaking his head.

"Mom and Dad aren't here! Take me upstairs the fun way!" He pleaded.

Bubbles scratched her head, glancing toward the door to their father's lab. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips, "Sammy...you know I'm not supposed to do that. What if I drop you? Or what if someone sees me?"

"Oh c'mon, Bubs! You've done it before! You never drop me!" he insisted, putting on his best pout. Bubbles cursed her weak heart; she also cursed her evil little brother for knowing how easily that look worked on her. Biting her lip, she leaned down and placed her finger to her lips, shushing him.

"Alright, but it's our secret, okay?" She winked and Sammy grinned, winking back. He was already laughing as Bubbles lifted him into her arms and carried him toward the couch. With a little "Woop!" she jumped on the couch, and then, with a little bit more bend to her knees, shot them both straight up into the air.

"Woohoo! Yeah!" Sammy cheered, trying to touch the ceiling. His fingers just grazed the top before they came back down, bouncing on the second floor landing. Bubbles squealed, mistiming her bounce and shooting them both higher than she meant to on the second jump. She quickly got control, taking a much more measured third bounce, and a gentle fourth bounce. Thankfully, by the fifth, she was able to stop without much more drama.

In contrast, Sammy thought her mistake was the coolest thing ever.

"That was great! Do it again!" he insisted, stars in his eyes, a grin glued to his face.

"Nope! Only one time! Sorry, ask again tomorrow!" Bubbles teased, setting him down. He groaned, crossing his arms and pouting. This time, she didn't let him get away with being a little rat. "Oh no you don't!" she exclaimed, giving his sides a quick tickle. Sammy squealed and squirmed away, giggling and rubbing his belly.

"That's not fair!"

"Neither is being a little stinker! Now, c'mon! Let's fix your car,"

XxXxX

Bubbles bit her tongue, carefully attaching the wire back to the circuit board. "Okay, screw driver?" she called over her shoulder. Sammy nodded, passing her the tool. He was sitting nearby, watching with so much intensity she could have sworn he was sweating. With a giggle, she tightened the last screw and began to reattach the casing along the outside of the racecar.

"Here we go...and one more...there!" Bubbles grinned, flipping the racecar over and handing Sammy the remote control, "Give 'er a test drive!"

The two sat with bated breath as Sammy started up the remote. He glanced at her and she nodded. Sammy nodded and accelerated the little car. His eyes lit up when it began to move!

"It works! You fixed it! Yes! Yes! Thanks, Bubs!" He cried, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her tight. Bubbles gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a little hug in return.

"You're very welcome! Try to be careful, though. This is the sixth time. If you keep this up, you might break it for real," she pointed out, sliding to her feet and brushing her pants off.

"I'm being careful! I just...didn't see the stairs…" he muttered, running the little car around the room at full speed. Bubbles just rolled her eyes and reminded him that dinner would be ready in a few more minutes.

Humming, she flipped over the second floor railing and dropped down onto the couch below. She gave a little "oof!" when she landed on the remote, but was proud of an otherwise safe fall. That is, until she heard someone clear her throat. Bubbles peeked up over the arm of the couch and laughed sheepishly.

"H-Hey, Mommy. How was work?"

Her mother, Cassandra Utonium, formerly Cassandra Keane, put her hands on her hips and shook her head. Her mother was a beloved kindergarten teacher at the nearby Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, where both Bubbles and Sammy had once been students. It wasn't the first time Bubbles had seen that look on her face, and she couldn't resist giggling nervously.

"It went very well, thank you. Bubbles, you know what we've discussed about imitatable acts, right?"

Bubbles sighed, "Yes, Mommy,"

"Just because you can jump off the second floor like that, doesn't mean you should. What if Sammy saw you and tried that?" Cassie asked, walking to the couch and gesturing toward Bubbles' feet. The teen lifted her legs, letting her mom sit down, then plopped them back down on her lap.

"I'd catch him?" Bubbles offered. Cassie just raised an eyebrow.

"And what if you aren't here?"

Bubbles sighed, "I know. I'm sorry, and I won't do it again. I was just excited about fixing his car...again," the two giggled and Cassie gave her a pat on the leg.

"It's okay, Sweetie, I forgive you. I know you're a wonderful sister and you'd hate to see him get hurt," Bubbles beamed and Cassie sighed, leaning back into the cushy couch, "So how was school?"

"Pretty good, we have class elections coming up soon, so I've got a couple of people asking me to design posters and stuff for them," Bubbles explained, going into a rambling explanation of who was running, what they were running for, what she thought of each of them, their favorite foods, colors, books, and, in some cases, the last time she'd been to a sleepover at their house. While she was more interested in hearing how Bubbles did on her history test, Cassie couldn't bring herself to interrupt her cheerful chatter.

XxXxX

Bubbles drummed her fingers on her stomach, staring up at her ceiling fan. She pursed her lips, cocking her head and closing her eyes. She could hear a dog barking down the street, and a cat mewing somewhere near the Robinson's house. Clenching her eyes and focusing harder, she tried to hear Townsville. Sirens, someone was breaking the law. There were guns shooting, lots of people running. There was a car going too fast, tires screeching. If she listened hard enough, maybe she'd hear her?

Townsville new heroine!

Bubbles grinned and sat up, kicking off her blankets. That did it! There were definitely bad things happening and even if Townsville finally had a real heroine, it couldn't hurt to give her a little help, right?

"And besides…" Bubbles whispered as she began to get changed. She pulled on a pair of black biking shorts and a pair of athletic socks. She stretched and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She pulled her white hoodie on and dug around in her closet. Her dad had said her shoes were fixed, so where were they?

"Let's see...there!" She whispered, pulling on a pair of specially made running shoes. They had extra thick soles, and specially padded insoles, to help with her...special talent. Bubbles paused in front of the mirror and pulled her hood over her face. The big bunny ears fell in front of her face, causing her to grin.

She looked perfect!

"If I'm lucky, maybe I'll get to meet her? That would be so cool…" Bubbles muttered, jumping out her window. The moment her feet touch the ground, her grin only got bigger as she bent her knees and suddenly shot herself off, into the sky! She couldn't fly, not like some meta-humans, but she could hop!

"When trouble is near, I am not slow! For it's hop, hop, hop!" Each bounce sent her flying further and faster. She had to be careful to avoid leaving dents in the ground. That had been difficult to explain to the Smiths…. "And away...I...GO!" Harmony Bunny hit the ground and bent her knees all the way. With a loud "WOO!" she shot off in the direction of Townsville.

XxXxX

"There we go, Missus Mittens," Harmony Bunny cooed, petting the proud mama cat. The old cat mewed thankfully, nuzzling the pack of kittens crowded around the dish of milk the heroine had brought them. "Try to stay out of trouble, okay? I told Spike about your kitties, so he'll be by to look after you, okay?" Harmony Bunny explained. Somehow, the cat seemed to understand her, nuzzling her hand again. The blue-eyed heroine grinned, saying her goodbyes and hopping up and along the walls of the nearby buildings. She grunted trying to slow her stop by taking smaller jumps once she got to the roof.

"There...still getting the hang of it," Harmony Bunny assured herself, walking to the edge of the building. Ms. Mittens would be safe once Spike found her. He was a good dog, a tough old doberman with a heart of gold. Harmony Bunny sat down on the edge of the building sighing. She'd checked on seven cats, four dogs, three rats, and a opossum. They were happy now, at least, but...she closed her eyes and listened.

She could hear tires squealing, guns firing, and people shouting. They were pretty far away. There were too many of them for her to mess with, she was better off leaving that to the real heroine. A smile cracked on Harmony Bunny's lips. She could hear her chattering on a radio, giving orders to the cops to follow her in about five minutes.

"She's so cool…" Harmony Bunny whispered, resting her chin on her hands. She sat up straight, cocking her head when she heard something nearby. It was a fight, two women. She grinned, jumping to her feet. "Finally, my time to shine!" The fluffy hooded heroine jumped the gap between herself and the next building, hurrying toward the fight.

XxXxX

"Listen, we don't need to fight, Hon. Just give me the purse, and I'll be on my way, yeah?" The shorter woman insisted, pressing her switchblade closer to her victim's throat. The lady nodded, slipping the purse from her shoulder and holding it out.

"Take it! Just don't hurt me...I don't have a lot of money…" she whimpered. The thief snatched the purse and flipped it open, keeping her victim pinned to the wall. She pulled out a few bills and raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously? Man, I'm not walking away with just twenty bucks, not worth it. You've gotta have something that's worth more. Don't you have a phone?" She asked. The lady just shook her head.

"N-No, my old phone is broken, I haven't replaced it yet," she explained.

The thief sighed, biting her tongue and glaring at her. "Well, that pisses me off." She rammed the lady up against the wall, grinding her teeth, "I'll just beat your ass for wasting my time, Sweetch-" the two froze, hearing a loud crash nearby. The fluffy heroine stood up straight, adjusting her hood.

"That's enough, bad girl! Let her go!" Harmony Bunny called, thrusting her finger at her, like she'd seen the heroes on TV do so many times. She flinched and sighed when the thief started laughing.

"Are you serious? Kid, you can't be serious." She glanced at the lady, jerking her thumb toward Harmony Bunny, "A fat little rabbit. This is a joke, right?"

"I'm serious! I'm a real hero! If you don't let her go, I'll have to make you!" Harmony Bunny insisted. The thief shook her head, glaring at the lady.

"You try to run, I'm gonna chase you down and gut you, got it?" Tightening her grip on her knife, she strolled over to Harmony Bunny. The heroine narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out.

'You can do this Bubbles...it's your first fight, but it's just one person. She's normal and you're the Daring Harmony Bunny! You're really fast, you can hear super good, and you can jump good! Oh and you've got-' Harmony Bunny's train of thought ended abruptly when the thief roared and charged at her. She dodged the first swing, then the second, her eyes getting wider.

"Sit still, you little shit!" The thief took a wild swing at her, so Harmony Bunny jumped over her, lightly tapping her on the back with her feet. It was still enough force to send her smashing face first into the ground, while Harmony Bunny landed unharmed. Her hands shot to her mouth.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you so hard…"

The lady looked up in fear, "You didn't mean to? Aren't you trying to save me?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't want to hurt her, WAH!" Harmony Bunny screamed, dodging another angry charge. When she brought her hands up and brought the knife down toward her, Harmony Bunny ducked to the side and jumped, ricocheting off the building, she landed nearby, panting.

'Okay, fighting is a lot harder than it looks. I'll just use the stickers.' This time, when the thief came in at her, Harmony Bunny dropped to her knees, ducking under the swing. She pulled a sticker from the little bag she wore on her hip and lifted the thief's shirt up.

"H-Hey! What the-"

"Boop!" Harmony Bunny chirped, pressing the sticker against her belly. Almost instantly, the thief dropped to the ground, giggling and squealing, a giant grin on her face. Harmony Bunny giggled, climbing to her feet. She picked up the lady's purse and brought it back to her.

"Here you go," she glanced back at the still giggling thief and laughed, "Looks like someone was a little ticklish. It's okay, that'll wear off in a bit and she'll feel better,"

The lady stared at her, incredulously. She tugged at one of Harmony Bunny's ears, "You...are seriously...a hero?"

"Well a heroine, but yes! Well...um not officially, but...oh no!" Harmony Bunny heard sirens approaching and screamed, "Oh no, I can't be here when they get here."

"Wait...you're...you're not registered?" The lady asked, her fears confirmed. "So you're...a vigilante?"

"No! I mean, not exactly. It's complicated, just don't tell anyone I was here, okay? Thanks, have a safe night!" With that, Harmony Bunny shot off into the air, bouncing between the buildings until she got to the rooftops. Then, she took off bounding across the city, making her way back toward Pokey Oaks.

"You know…" she mumbled as she hurried home. She closed her eyes and listened. The thief was still laughing and she could hear the lady talking to her husband, telling him she was safe. "I'm not too bad at this!" she exclaimed, disappearing into the sleepy suburb.


	6. Buttercup Goodlady

**Volume 6 - Buttercup Goodlady**

A pretty, middle-aged woman paused in her living room, staring at the tightly boarded up windows and thick blinds covering them. She crossed her arms across her ample chest and pursed her lips, glancing back at the room. It was a wreck, like it usually was when she came home. Clothes strewn across the couch, the coffee table flipped over, long gashes in the already tattered recliner. She sighed and shook her head, her long hair whipping out like tentacles and putting the coffee table back upright. She quickly gathered her daughter's clothes, most of them covered in cuts and tears, and dropped them on the couch.

She paused by the refrigerator, snatching a sheet from the shopping list notepad. She scribbled a quick message and left it on the counter. The woman paused to make sure the kitchen window was properly shut and covered. She nodded and snatched her purse, ready to head to work. She paused at the door and bit her lip, closing her eyes. She fought with herself for a moment, then wandered down the hall, knocking on the door at the end.

"Hon, you up yet?" she called. No response. Shaking her head, she popped the door open and slid inside, leaning against the door. The room was pitch black. The window had been boarded up entirely, so much so that no amount of light could pierce the darkness. Her hand slid to her mouth, gently pinching her nose. Her daughter hadn't cleaned herself off before going to bed, it seemed. The room was thick with the scent of blood and sweat.

"Buttercup?" she called again. This time, she heard a small grunt and the sound of covers rustling. She heard a young woman smacking her lips and groaning.

"What time is it?" a tired voice called back.

The woman glanced down at her wrist, frowning when she couldn't read her own watch.

"A bit after noon, I have to head to work. You do remember that Dick will be stopping by today, to check on your homework, right?" Her daughter groaned and fell back into her bed. The woman didn't let up, "You've been slipping, Buttercup, I expect you to at least have something for him to check. And try, please, try to listen to him. He's doing us a favor tutoring you."

Her daughter coughed a weak, forced laugh, "I didn't ask him to."

"If you want to just lay in here and mope until you run off again tonight, that's fine! I don't want to argue!" the woman snapped, turning and leaving the room, slamming the door a bit harder than she meant to. She paused outside the door, finally looking at her watch. "Shit, I'm late…" she muttered. With a sighed, she pushed the door open again. She could faintly make out her daughter, sitting up in bed.

"Buttercup, I'm sorry. Take as much time as you need," she quickly said before turning and leaving.

The teenager ran her hand through her stringy, greasy hair. She paused, pressing her hand against her eyes, listening until she heard the door to the apartment shut and lock. She dropped back in her bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

XxXxX

The door to the dark bedroom cracked open and an exhausted Buttercup Goodlady shuffled out into the apartment. It was stuffy; her mom, Ima, had shut the air conditioning off before leaving. Buttercup coughed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, shuffling toward the bathroom. She couldn't blame her; they couldn't afford to keep it running all the time.

And, to be honest, the heat wasn't so bad. She'd felt worse.

Her train of thought derailed when she flipped the light on in the bathroom. She squinted, a hiss and a moan escaping her lips. She quickly shut the light off again and flipped on a tiny night light they left near the sink.

'Better...' she thought, cracking her eyes open. She pushed her bangs away and drew her finger across her newest face decoration. A scar across her cheek, maybe a couple inches long. It wasn't as impressive as the one on her stomach, thankfully. She spun the faucet and groaned when the water refused to pour out. With a growl, she held out her hand, a thick sheet of black covering her skin. Her hand lit up and with a little snarl, she tore the faucet off entirely. Water began to spray everywhere, and Buttercup's arm returned to normal.

She stared at the water, realization slowly dawning on her. Her lips pulled back and her teeth clenched. She screwed her eyes shut and dug her hands into her hair, muffling a scream as she slid to her knees. The teenager took a shaky breath and hit her fist against the ground. Now the water was starting to pool around her. Once she was on her feet, she stuck her face straight into the geyser, pulling away and shaking her head.

"That was stupid…" she muttered. Now she would have to ask Dick to fix it and...well he was already going to be pissed that she hadn't done her homework. Buttercup snatched the faucet and took a closer look at the damage she'd done. 'It can't hurt any worse...' she thought gloomily, placing the faucet back where it should go. With a growl, both hands turned black and lit up with green fire.

After fighting with the waterflow, it suddenly began to flow through the faucet like normal. Holding her breath, Buttercup turned the knob. The water stopped, "Fuck yes," she whispered, shedding her blood soaked, sweat-stained clothes and leaving them where they fell. She closed her eyes when the shower didn't start the second she cranked the knob, but breathed a sigh of relief when it began to gush out.

"Quick shower...then do something for Dick...maybe…" Buttercup muttered, climbing into the water. She shuddered and a whimper escaped her lips before she could hold it back. The water was like ice and her wounds from the previous night were still sensitive. Gritting her teeth and forcing her eyes open, she looked down at her chest. One, two, three, four new bullet scars. The last gang she'd busted had been a little looser with their shots. Most people gave up after the first shot or two did nothing.

She looked around for the soap, but her mom must have used the last of it. She spotted the shampoo, but simply stared at it. Her eyes widened and her lips pulled back. With a scream, she slammed the cheap bottle against the wall, crushing it and spraying it in her eyes. She stumbled back, rubbing her eyes furiously.

Buttercup turned the water off and threw the curtain open, storming back into the house, still rubbing her eyes and leaving a long trail of water in her wake. Dick was going to be by within the hour. Still cursing, she threw on the biggest sweater and first pair of pants she could find, throwing herself down on the pile of clothes on the couch. She rolled her head back and stared at the ceiling. Her green eyes were wide, framed red from the shampoo and barely holding up the dark bags beneath them. Her thick black hair was still dripping, falling over her face.

It was English day. She hated English. Worse than that, she hated math, which was the last lesson two days ago. Grunting, she sat up and pulled her math papers closer. The numbers flittered around the page, never staying still or speaking to her. She rubbed her eyes and narrowed them, trying to focus.

She heard a loud crash, saw a flash of light and smelled gunpowder. Her hands began to clench, her lips pulled back. The numbers were starting to flutter, but she kept them in place, smoothing her paper out and grabbing her pencil. She felt a pressure against her stomach, then felt her own skin heating up. Their screams filled the silence and she felt hot wetness splatter her face. Buttercup sat upright, snapping the pencil in her hand. She threw it to the side and buried her face in her hands.

"C'mon, Buttercup, c'mon. It's just fucking numbers. Just numbers, just forget about last night and look at these stupid ass numbers," she insisted, opening her eyes and staring at the paper again. "So the square root is…" she heard tires squealing and shouting. Then, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She could feel herself bleeding. She could hear a voice, begging, pleading for her to be let go. That voice stopped, and she saw a pair of eyes. He tipped his hat, before bringing a cane down on her face.

"FUCK YOU!" Buttercup screamed, throwing the coffee table across the room. It smashed into the wall, breaking as it fell to the ground. She snarled, panting and staring after it with a wild, heated look in her eyes. She whipped her head around, her panicked snarl falling on the man knocking at the door.

"Knock, knock, Goodlady! Your friendly neighborhood...oh, you're in a mood," The man, a tanned, tall man with slicked back blond hair sighed and looked at the destruction in the living room. His eyes fell on the snarling sixteen year old. "Feel better?"

"Not. Even. A bit." she snarled, bringing her hands to her face, she fell back on the couch, struggling to slow her breathing. Struggling to control the heat in the air, the unearthly green light building up inside of her. The man, Dick Hardley, her teacher, sighed and flopped down beside her, tussling her hair.

"Look, Buttercup, I understand. I really do. But, c'mon girl, you can't go breaking stuff your mom hasn't even paid off yet! How do you expect her to get out of debt when you keep pulling this crap?" he asked, trying to get her to look him in the eye. Buttercup just snarled and turned away, crossing her arms. Dick sighed and walked to the kitchen, rifling through the refrigerator and snatching her mom's last beer. He cracked it open, took a drink, and popped open his briefcase.

"So we have English today. I'm guessing this," he jerked his thumb at the smashed coffee table and took another drink, "is from the math assignment. So no dice?" Buttercup slowly shook her head and Dick nodded. "Right, no math...look, do you even wanna do this? I can just grab some grub and go, and you can go back to that dark, brooding thing you like to do."

Buttercup ground her teeth and narrowed her eyes. Her fingers began to dig into her face. Slowly, she sighed, "Yeah, sounds good, Dick."

Dick raised his can to her and began to go through the refrigerator again. Buttercup just fell back into her pile of dirty clothes and stared at the ceiling. Every so often, the corner of her mouth twitched and she clutched at her face.

XxXxX

Buttercup's eyes snapped open. She sat up, breathing heavily. Slowly, her head rolled back. Her eyes were heating up. Her skin was getting darker. She growled, clutching her left wrist as she stumbled to her feet. She could faintly feel it, hear it in the distance. The moon's beautiful beckoning. She could feel the darkness slipping inside of her. No, not slipping into her.

She grinned, her eyes lighting up into twin green lights. She could feel the darkness pouring out of her, freed from the sun's oppressive rays. Buttercup stumbled through the living room, into the kitchen. She clutched the sides of the stove, staring at the blinking timer on it. It was just after ten. Her mom would be home in an hour. If she was going, and she knew she was going, she should leave soon. Buttercup snickered, letting go of her wrist.

She held her hand up and slowly breathed out, a sigh of relief as the darkness within her took over, washing over her and brushing aside the pain, the hunger, the fatigue. Strength filled her up, her muscles bulged and grew. Darkness wrapped around her like a skintight blanket. She clenched her fists, now encased in spiked gloves. She took a step, her feet now clad in shin-high boots, also adorned in little spikes. With a grunt, she thrust her arms out, a billowing black cape erupting from behind her. She reached back, grabbing her hood and pulling it up over her head. Her eyes lit up bright, venomous green, and her fanged grin was quickly hidden behind a black mask, wrapping around her nose and mouth.

Breathing one last sigh of relief, the Mighty Mange looked down at her hands. She clenched her fists and green fire rose up from within her, lighting up the pitch dark room around her. "So much better," Mange rasped, storming toward the door. She paused, hearing footsteps approaching. With a growl, she slid into the shadows and slipped under the door. Moving like a thick liquid, she slipped along the tattered walls of their dingy apartment building, disappearing into the shadows and into the lobby below.

An angry old man, one who had called her mom a slut too many times, was picking through his mail and muttering to himself. Mange rose up out of the shadows behind him, clutching her clawed fist. Green light engulfed her and with a roar she threw her fist forward, just missing the old man and smashing the mailboxes open.

He screamed and tumbled to the ground, quickly grabbing his side.

"Wh-Wh...you...you're the one I heard about…" he moaned, a whimper filling his throat when she began to reach for him. Mange's eyes narrowed and her head jerked to the side. She growled, recognizing the humming voice approaching. She wouldn't let her see her this way.

"You got lucky, you rusty old fuck," she hissed, disappearing back into the shadows. Mange waited in the corner, watching as Ima stepped into the lobby, pulling her hair out of the bun it had been tucked into.

"Shh, relax, babies," she cooed, petting the writhing strands of hair, all too happy to be freed. She paused at their mailbox, pulling it open and flipping through what Mange assumed were numerous bills. She stopped at a strange black envelope. Her eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Hutchins, you really shouldn't sit in the middle of the floor," she spat, turning away from the injured old codger and making her way up the stairs. Mange snickered, watching the old man mumble and moan, trying to pick himself back up. With a growl, she disappeared through the door and into the shadows of the night.

It was a dark night, despite the waxing half moon in the sky above. Mange took a deep breath, standing atop the tallest building she could find. The green fire around her whipped up and flared. She felt stronger, definitely stronger than she had the night before.

"The moon," she murmured, staring at it in a trance. Her mom was right, it really was making her stronger. The bigger, the fuller it was, the more the darkfire poured through her veins. The thicker her skin became. Mange cocked her head, and turned, sniffing the air. She growled, narrowing her eyes. She recognized that scent. Her senses were stronger too.

She'd seen him around, usually lurking while the rest of his chump friends did the dirty work. That night, though? She could smell something else on him: her mom's perfume. With a flourish of her cape, Mange disappeared into the darkness.

XxXxX

"Oh they're good when they're hot! Shit, Jose, you know how to help a brother out," A shady man joked, taking a huge bite out of the cheap hot dog the gas station attendant had made for him. The attendant laughed, pausing by the door to make sure it was locked.

"Come off it, Sid. You know those ain't free. You gotta pay someday," Jose jerked on the door, satisfied that it wasn't opening, and propped himself up on the counter, taking a long drink from the big gulp he'd filled with strawberry slush.

Sid just snorted, "Oh yeah big man, put it on my tab," the two laughed. Sid offered Jose some of the overly cheesy nachos he'd made and the two went back to discussing nothing at all really. Their peaceful evening of petty theft and slacking, however, came to an abrupt end when the lights began to flicker. Jose sighed, hopping off the counter.

"Shit, this place is fallin' apart. Lemme go check it out," he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed into the back. Sid just shrugged and snatched his drink, taking a sip. He cringed, rubbing his head.

"Ah, brain freeze," he laughed to himself. He went to take another bite of his hot dog and froze. There, standing in front of him was a pitch black phantom, her eyes gleaming bright as the moon. He started to scream, but she was too fast. Her hand shot out, snatching him by the throat. With a snarl, she slammed his head against the counter, then threw him into a candy stand. Sid fumbled and coughed, one hand on his throat, the other searching his jacket for something.

"Looking for your knife? Go ahead, get it." Mange snarled, slowly advancing on him.

"Nah, man, I don't do that shit," Sid laughed, revealing his sidearm. He leveled it with her head, aiming right between her eyes.

Mange just snorted, narrowing her eyes, "What are you waiting for? Shoot,"

"Man, I don't want to. I know better than to fuck with you specials. Listen, why don't you tell me what you want, I tell you what you wanna know, and we go our own ways, huh?" Sid offered, shrugging and offering his hand in a friendly gesture. Mange just snarled and began to advance on him. Sid took a step back over the toppled rack and held his gun steady. "Woah, chill, man. I will put you down." he threatened.

"What the fuck were you doing with Ima Goodlady, huh?" Mange barked, hand shoot toward him. Sid pulled the trigger, shooting her right between the eyes. The phantom snatched his gun in one hand, and his collar in the other. With a roar, she lifted him off the ground and threw him back into the counter. He gasped, the air forced from his lungs as he crumpled to the ground.

"Wh-What? Man, I wasn't around no Goodlady," Sid insisted, looking around for his gun. He glanced up, watching as Mange's hand lit up in green fire and his gun slowly melted through her fingers. "Shit, man, you're a scary ass special."

"That perfume. It's hers, why is it on you?" Mange pulled him to his feet, pulling one fist back in warning. Sid held his hands up.

"The perfume? Oh shit, you mean Sedusa? Fuck, I think you got the wrong chick, man. I was just feelin' up this slut I know and-" Sid cried out as her fist hit his cheek. His eyes bulged and blood streamed from his mouth.

"She's not a slut!" Mange barked, backhanding him. She caught him before he fell and jerked him back up, "What the fuck were you doing around her?" she hissed.

"J-Just...sh-she's...man, it's personal, you know? Don't get s-so pissed!" Sid insisted. That was the hesitation Mange had been looking for. Her mask pulled back, revealing her wide jaw and her mouth full of razor sharp fangs.

"Wrong answer," she snarled. With a roar, she slammed her fist into his stomach. Before he could so much as cry out, she smashed his head against the cash register, knocking him and the register to the ground. Mange paused, glancing at the register, then at Sid. He called her by that name...that meant this loser was involved with that man.

Mange narrowed her eyes and growled, lifting the register up.

"Yo, Sid, I was...wh-what's going on?" Jose cried out, wandering back into the station proper. Mange turned to glare at him.

"You know this guy?" she asked. Jose slowly nodded.

"Get a head start," she growled, "You're next," Mange brought the register down on Sid with all of her strength. Hot blood sprayed against her, getting in her eyes. Beneath her mask, her snarl became a grin. She hit him again, and again, then dropped the register on him. She could hear Jose screaming, running for the back door.

Mange snorted and brushed her cape off, storming off into the back of the gas station. He was going to be so disappointed when he found out it was welded shut.


End file.
